Ethan did not return home immediately after leaving the Meridian Grand Ballroom.
Instead, he asked his driver to take him to a quiet office on the twenty-first floor of a building overlooking the river. The office belonged to an independent investigator named Rebecca Shaw, who had spent eighteen months helping him reconstruct the events surrounding the fire.
Rebecca was waiting when he arrived.
She was in her early forties, with dark hair tied into a low ponytail and a habit of reading documents while standing. Her office contained filing cabinets, a large monitor, and a conference table covered with neatly organized folders.
She looked up as Ethan entered.
"I heard about the incident."
"News travels quickly."
"Someone recorded part of it on a phone. The video is already circulating among a few guests."
Ethan sighed.
"That wasn't what I wanted."
"I assumed as much."
She studied his face.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Did you strike him because he grabbed you?"
"Yes."
"Did you continue after he fell?"
"No."
Rebecca nodded.
"Then we'll preserve the available footage and document your account. If anyone raises a formal complaint, you should speak with your lawyer before making a detailed statement."
"I intend to."
"Good. Because the financial investigation is complicated enough without adding a separate dispute."
Ethan moved toward the conference table.
"Did you receive the reference number?"
Rebecca opened a folder.
"MC-4178. Yes."
She placed a document in front of him.
"The external auditors found a digital record showing that the authorization was created under Adrian's credentials. However, the signature attached to the final document appears to have been copied from an earlier approval."
"Can we prove he personally altered it?"
"Not yet. The access logs show that his account was used, but we need to establish who was operating the system. His credentials could have been shared or compromised."
Ethan studied the document.
"Then we don't accuse him of altering it."
"Exactly."
Rebecca pulled another folder from a cabinet.
"There's something else."
She placed several photographs on the table.
They showed the exterior of the records facility before and after the fire three years earlier.
Ethan examined them carefully.
The first photographs showed the building intact. The later images revealed a burned section of the eastern corridor and damage around a restricted archive room.
"The official report attributed the fire to an electrical failure," Rebecca said. "But an independent engineer reviewed the surviving maintenance records. The alarm system had been disabled manually shortly before the first emergency call."
Ethan looked up.
"By whom?"
"The access record identifies a temporary security credential. Unfortunately, the original personnel log was among the records destroyed in the fire."
"Who issued the credential?"
"That record is missing, too."
Ethan leaned back.
The pattern was becoming familiar.
Every time the investigation approached a decisive answer, it encountered a missing document, an incomplete record, or a system that had failed at precisely the wrong moment.
Rebecca placed a final photograph on the table.
It showed a side entrance with a damaged electronic lock.
"One witness remembered seeing a man leave through this door shortly before the fire spread. The witness could not identify him, but described a dark coat and a silver watch."
Ethan's eyes narrowed.
"Adrian wore a silver watch that night."
"According to a photograph taken at a company dinner earlier that evening, yes. But that proves nothing by itself."
"No. It doesn't."
Rebecca folded her hands.
"We need to be disciplined about this, Ethan. We cannot build a case around what we remember or what we suspect. We need independent evidence connecting the access credential, the missing records, and the people who benefited from the fire."
Ethan nodded.
He knew she was right.
Three years earlier, he had believed that exposing Adrian would be straightforward. He had discovered irregularities, confronted his colleague, and expected the truth to emerge once the documents were examined.
Instead, the fire had destroyed the strongest evidence, his injuries had removed him from the center of the investigation, and the people responsible had used his absence to reshape the story.
He had spent years reconstructing what had happened.
Now, for the first time, the evidence was beginning to converge.
"There's one question we haven't answered," Rebecca said.
"Which one?"
"Why did someone send you to the facility that night?"
Ethan went still.
The anonymous message had been the reason he went to the building. It claimed that a junior records administrator had discovered evidence of financial misconduct and feared that someone intended to destroy it.
The sender had provided the location and a time.
The message had vanished from his phone during the chaos of the fire. He had recovered a partial backup months later, but the sender's identity remained unknown.
"I assumed the message came from the administrator," Ethan said.
"Did the administrator ever confirm that?"
"No. He disappeared before we could interview him."
Rebecca opened her laptop.
"We found a partial copy of the original message in an archived backup. There's a timestamp and a routing identifier, but the account itself was deactivated."
"Can we trace it?"
"We're trying."
Ethan stared at the screen.
The message had not simply brought him to the fire.
It had brought him into a building where the alarm system had been disabled, the records were about to be destroyed, and the people responsible could later claim that his injuries had been an unfortunate accident.
He had never been certain whether the sender intended to help him or use him.
Now he feared that both possibilities might be true.
Rebecca turned the laptop toward him.
"There is another detail. The message was routed through an account associated with a consulting firm that worked for the company during the period when the disputed transactions occurred."
Ethan recognized the firm's name.
Northbridge Advisory.
It had been hired to review the company's internal controls shortly before the fire.
Adrian had recommended the firm.
Ethan had approved the contract because the firm appeared qualified and independent.
He remembered signing the agreement.
He remembered Adrian saying that a second set of eyes would reassure the investors.
And he remembered the strange insistence that the review be completed before the end of the quarter.
"Who ran Northbridge?" Ethan asked.
Rebecca checked her notes.
"Martin Voss."
Ethan felt his stomach tighten.
Martin had been the company's former chief operating officer. He had resigned several months after the fire, citing personal reasons, and had subsequently moved overseas.
He had also been one of the few people with access to the original financial records.
"Has anyone spoken to him?"
"Not directly. Our attempts to contact him have been unsuccessful."
Ethan looked at the photographs again.
For three years, he had focused on Adrian because the available evidence pointed toward his former partner.
But if Martin Voss had helped arrange the review, controlled the relevant access procedures, and disappeared shortly after the fire, then Adrian might not have acted alone.
The betrayal could be larger than Ethan had imagined.
He closed the folder.
"Find him."
Rebecca nodded.
"We'll continue through the legal channels."
"And preserve everything."
"Already underway."
Ethan moved toward the window.
The city stretched beneath him, bright and indifferent.
He had spent three years trying to understand why the fire happened.
Now he was beginning to understand the more dangerous question.
Who had needed it to happen?